Private Enterprise
by Sue Denham
Summary: Harry would never use departmental tracers for personal reasons ... would he? Set mid series 8.


The world had just given him a new definition of boredom and Tariq wasn't entirely certain that he was ready for it. He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. This really wasn't what he had been expecting his new job to be like. He knew that it wasn't going to be all excitement and danger; but he had been expecting something more than to be sat in the same chair night after night, staring at security feeds of what appeared to be an empty building.

The most exciting thing that had been discovered so far in five nights of observation was the fact that the back of the building he was watching appeared to be the local make-out spot for the areas urban foxes.

He reached forward and screwed up the sheet of paper on his desk that he had been doodling on, and then aimed it at the bin in the corner. It struck the rim of the bin before falling to the floor. Tariq let out another sigh; it was nearly one in the morning, and he'd spent his Saturday night scrawling on bits of paper and watching the fox population of West London get their jollies.

The proximity alarm on the table next to his monitor let out a little chirrup of warning, and he scrambled quickly to remove his feet from the desk; managing to get them both back on the floor moments before the door to the room opened and Harry entered.

He'd installed the tiny sensor in the main office after only his second week on the grid. He realised that he had a way to go be accepted fully within the team, and that being found in anything other than a completely alert state was likely to see him sent straight back to that woman from Human Resources who wore too much perfume and called everyone 'darling'

The induction sessions that he'd forced himself to stay awake through had not really done anything to prepare him for what life would actually be like working as part of Section D. He'd been grateful to Ruth for taking him under her wing and guiding him through the minefield of office politics. She had explained that his presence on the grid was going to be a reminder for a while that his predecessor was no longer there. She'd warned him to pay no heed to any comments from Harry that began with the words 'Malcolm wouldn't have done it like this', and to instead concentrate on everything else that he said. He was fast coming to the conclusion that as nearly every sentence seemed to begin with a reference to Malcolm, he wasn't getting very far.

He forced his mind back to the matter in hand. Harry was in the room; he was obviously there for a reason.

"There's still no movement from the target," he reported dutifully; remembering in time Ruth's warning of not to question why Harry was there during those periods when he was scheduled to be at home.

Harry merely grunted in reply and stared blindly at the array of technical equipment that cluttered the desk. Tariq had a sneaking suspicion that Harry was the sort of person who would ring Ruth up in the middle of the night because he couldn't work out how to use the timer on his Hard Disk recorder. He was also beginning to get the impression that Ruth would answer that ringing phone at any hour of the day without question.

He wisely kept those thoughts to himself though, and instead asked if there was anything he could do.

"The tracers that I asked you for last week..." there was a slight hesitation at the start of the sentence, as though Harry was slightly embarrassed by the request he was making.

Tariq pushed his chair across to the far end of the desk and brought the computer at the end out of sleep mode.

"The two micro tracers? I haven't activated the tracking on them at the moment, but I can assure you that you won't be disappointed with them. They are the most accurate things not on the market, and with a few minor software tweaks I've been able to make them give up even more detail."

Tariq turned in his seat. Harry was still standing at the end of the desk, half hidden in the shadows.

"…Activate them."

Tariq caught he hesitation that again was present in Harry's voice. That was the problem with trackers; sometimes they bought you information that you'd rather not know.

Tariq paused. "I need to be able to use the monitor that I'm watching at the moment," he explained. "It's going to disrupt the surveillance."

"I've been led to believe that in the past week you've seen more mating foxes than David Attenborough has in a lifetime," Harry remarked flatly. "I'm sure that you can drag yourself away from that spectacle for a couple of minutes."

Tariq risked a glance at Harry before sliding the chair back down to its original position and switching the input on the monitor.

"Both subjects are on the corner of Whitecross Avenue," Tariq reported as the program did its work and a map appeared on the screen in front of him; two bright red dots indicating the position of the two tracers.

"That's just round the corner from Ruth's house." Harry muttered before glancing down at his watch. "It's rather late for them to still be out."

"Both subjects are on the move," Tariq announced; not certain whether his news was going to be seen as a good thing or not. "They are making their way down Hamilton Road."

"Heading home," Harry mused quietly.

Tariq turned his head at the sound of Harry's voice; not quite catching what had been said. "I'm sorry?"

There was silence from Harry, but Tariq noted the way that he moved in to get a better view of the monitor.

Tariq stared intently at the progress of the two small red dots on the screen.

"Do you want me to increase the magnification?" The question was out of Tariq's mouth before he'd had a chance to think about it; and now he held his breath; hoping that Harry wouldn't think that he was making some kind of a joke about his eyesight.

"I want as much detail as you can give me; preferably the house number that the two of them enter."

Tariq shifted the keyboard in front of him and tapped away on the keys; happy to have avoided one pitfall and concentrating instead on something that he knew he was good at.

The image on the screen zoomed in on the two small red dots as they made their way along Hamilton Road. Tariq glanced quickly at the digital display at the top of the screen; wondering just how much time he should let pass before reminding Harry that he was supposed to be working on something else.

Even with his attention focused on the screen, Tariq could hear Harry moving behind him. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was someone looking over his shoulder when he was working. He'd noticed that Harry had a tendency to stand right behind Ruth's chair and rest one hand on it during briefings on the grid, and Tariq was hoping that it wasn't something that he did to everyone - having the chair tip back even slightly when he was working was something that he could well do without. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Harry lean up against the back wall of the small office and fold his arms.

"Where are they now?"

"They appear to be on the driveway of number 25."

"They're just standing there?"

"The tracker doesn't indicate any movement ….They're off again; both of them," Tariq amended as the dots on the screen betrayed the movement of the subjects.

Tariq shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Subject A has entered the building." He paused and changed to another set of parameters on the tracking software. "Subject B has now also entered the building."

"Hmm," was the only response from behind, as Harry pushed away from the wall and came to stare intently at the two small dots himself.

Eventually Harry stood back from the screen and stepped away. "I can see them moving. Where are they now?"

"Now?" the surprise in Tariq's voice was plain.

"Now," Harry confirmed. "Wasn't it you who told me, in more words than were strictly necessary, that these trackers were so sophisticated that, even from this range, you could monitor the progress of the subjects within the building?"

"Well …." Tariq wished that he'd been a little less enthusiastic earlier in the month when campaigning for newer kit.

"Just tell me where they are," Harry told him pointedly. "I want to know."

Tariq turned round in his seat. "Using the equipment for this sort of work really isn't within the bounds of …." He tailed off as he saw the expression on Harry's face and returned his attention to the screen, calculating the relative positions of both of the subjects.

"They're in the hallway," he reported quietly, checking the data streaming in on the second monitor. "Subject A is now making their way up the stairs." He paused. "Followed by B."

The sound from behind him was something like a cross between a sigh and a growl. Tariq wished that he was somewhere else; anywhere else: even the office of the woman from Human Resources was starting to have a certain level of appeal.

"And now…"

Tariq ran his tongue across his top lip. "I'm really not sure that I should be …."

"Just do as I ask," Harry told him firmly. "Where are they?"

Swallowing hard, Tariq pulled up a clearer schematic of the building.

"Both subjects are entering the bedroom."

There was a long period of silence where Tariq wished that someone, anyone, would open the door and enter the room.

"Can you tell where they are?"

"I'm sorry?" Tariq was slightly thrown by the question.

There was a loud tutting sound, and then Harry asked his next question slowly and deliberately. "Are they on the bed or the floor?"

"…Er …." Tariq really wasn't certain that that was a question that he should be answering.

"Are your little gadgets as good as they claim to be, or are you just unable to read the data that they supply? If Malcolm had been here then …." Harry's voice began to grow louder as his anger grew.

"They're on the bed!" Tariq gave up the information as quickly as he could; not wanting to listen to another lecture on how he was nowhere as good as the man who had held his position before him. He bore his predecessor no malice; he just wished that he'd not been quite so good at his job. He'd left some pretty big shoes to fill.

"I think I need to have a few well chosen words with Ruth," Harry snapped as he turned around smartly and headed for the door.

"I don't think that now is the best time," Tariq offered, but his advice was ignored as the door slammed shut behind his departing boss.

Tariq pushed both hands through his hair and then turned his head to look at the recently closed door. There was something going on that he couldn't hope to understand. If he was honest with himself at the present moment, he was of the opinion that ignorance was bliss. The domestic lives of his colleagues was something that he was not about to become entangled with. What they did or didn't do in their own time was their own business. He just wished that they'd keep their lives outside work ....well .... outside work!

Reaching forward, he changed the input on the monitor and returned his attention to the more mundane sight of the empty building. At that moment, even the high pitched screeching of the foxes would be a welcome distraction. He had a feeling that he didn't want to overhear the next few words that Harry was going to say. He had the impression that they were unlikely to be quiet.

* * *

Harry strode across the grid; his heels digging into the floor as he approached his office. He'd known that what the tracers picked up might be things that he might find hard to accept, but a voice in his head had told him that it was the right thing to do.

He pushed open the door to his office and entered.

"Both cats made it back to their new residence safely," he reported tartly. "Looks as though they've given up on the cat beds that I bought for them, and returned to their old habits!"

Ruth continued with the transcribing she was doing; her attention only half on what Harry was saying.

"What?"

"Your cats… It looks as though they're back to their old ways again. I can't understand why you let them run around like they own the place."

Ruth looked up at Harry; realisation beginning to dawn.

"How could you .... You haven't … you didn't …. What on earth did you do that for?"

In that one moment, Harry realised just how foolish the situation was. He straightened his tie and tried to decide on the best way out of the situation without completely losing face.

"Do you have any idea of how long it took to persuade your cats that my place was their new home? It took Zaf and Jo three nights to find them the first time they went missing, and then Malcolm decided that it was time to get them properly tagged."

"...Fidget doesn't like wearing a collar," Ruth felt obliged to explain.

"I know," Harry replied smoothly. "Have you any idea the amount of money that he's cost the taxpayer during the past couple of years. Trackers don't come cheap you know."

A small smile formed on Ruth's face. "And now I'm back you had them tagged again?"

"Didn't want them wandering back to my house and putting hairs all over the place again," Harry blustered, trying to hide the slight embarrassment he was feeling. "Anyway; I'm sure you have things you should be getting on with."

He turned and started to head out of the room.

"I'm sure they'd like to see you again," Ruth called out, as Harry was halfway out of the door. "You're .... you're more than welcome to come and visit."

The door closed without a sound and Ruth found that she couldn't stop smiling.

* * *

_**Yes, I know it was completely pointless. As soon as the idea lodged itself in my head, I just couldn't help it. :D**_


End file.
